


Silenced Song

by Nicholas_Lucien



Series: Dark and Light [3]
Category: Forever Knight
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Canonical Character Death, Cymru, Dark, Darkness, Episode: s02e19 Queen of Harps, F/M, Guilt, Harp - Freeform, Magic, Minor Character Death, Murder, Pre-Canon, Religion, Songs, Wales, light - Freeform, sin - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-07
Updated: 2020-12-07
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:00:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27925666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nicholas_Lucien/pseuds/Nicholas_Lucien
Summary: Nick will meet Gwynedd, and his life will begin to go down a different path.
Relationships: Nicholas Knight/Gwynedd, Nicholas Knight/Gwyneth
Series: Dark and Light [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1996345
Comments: 12
Kudos: 4





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story makes reference and uses scenes from the episode "Queen of Harps," which was written by Gillian Horvath.
> 
> I will say this: in the episode credits, her name is spelled "Gwyneth." However, I lived in North Wales, PA, USA for a few years and we learned a few Welsh words, which would include the correct spelling of this name (there is a Gwynedd Township which bordered us). Thus, despite what is in the episode, I will spell the name as "Gwynedd;" it is still pronounced the same.
> 
> It has only been since the 18th century that the English Channel has that name. Before then, it had no fixed name and was called differently by different groups of people. For this story, I went with what Anglo-Saxon texts called it during the 13th century: The South Sea. The Bristol Chanel was called the North Sea.
> 
> Estimations of how long sea travel would take were done using sea-distances.org, where you enter two ports and the speed of the ship. Ships of this time could travel 2-5 knots, so I selected 3 knots and it would take a vessel 7 days and 14 hours to go from Antwerp to Swansea. 
> 
> I do not own these characters and is not intended to infringe upon any copyright owners. No profit is being made from this work.

_November, 1220 The Marie, South Sea < < < < < < < < < < < < < < < < < < < < < < < < < _ _< < < < < < < < < < < < < < < < < < < <_

Nick leaned on the wooden rail, re-reading his most recent letter from Fleur. With a sad smile, he refolded the small parchment and slipped it into the leather pouch hanging from his belt. He took a deep breath, the ocean air lacking the rich scents of the forests he was so used to. Not quite a week on the waters and they were soon to head into the North Sea and, finally, to land. Nick looked around, squinting to reduce the brightness that often hurt his eyes. He could feel something, a push or a pull upon himself that he couldn’t identify, but was there. He had asked the other men if they had sensed anything, but none had, though one old sailor had warned that the land they were headed to was filled with demons who used dark magic to ensnare their enemies. Nick shook his head to rid himself of the old man’s words and considered what he would say about it in his next letter to Fleur. He decided he would talk about the travel and what he saw, but leave out the sensation he was experiencing.

Adjusting his balance with the boat’s movement over the waves, Nick felt this was very similar to his last few years – constantly adjusting. Studying in Leuven had been demanding: there was years’ worth of knowledge and etiquette to quickly learn and master, and he was sure he had forgotten most of it, but Fleur had been with him, helping him. He felt close to his sister; a bonding he never had with his other siblings. But he couldn’t spend all day with her, as his father had also made him begin training with the soldiers, in preparation for the more intense training he received with Lord DeLabarre’s men-at-arms. Nick had yet to see DeLabarre himself, and was slightly nervous as to what he might expect when they did meet for this mission in Carreg. A large wave collided with the boat and the resultant rocking distracted Nick from his thoughts as he worked to maintain balance and not fall over.

“De Brabant!”

Nick turned around. “Yes?”

“Your horse needs attention.”

Nick nodded and hastened to follow the soldier back to where the horses were stalled. None of the animals liked being on the moving vessel and were often frightened and tried to pull at their ropes. Nick saw that Addie had kicked the wood slats of her temporary stall and was trying to pull away. He carefully approached on her left side, hand out and speaking softly. He reassured her and gently stroked her striped forehead to calm her, the same as the other men were doing for their horses. When Addie was almost recovered, Yssac approached him.

“When you are finished, the Captain wants another game with you.”

Grinning, Nick continued to stroke Addie. “Of course.”

Ysaac also grinned and slapped Nicholas’ shoulder. “He thinks he’s figured out how to beat you this time. Maybe he will!” With a low laugh, he left the stalls.

Nick watched the man leave, then returned to tending his horse. He knew his position and training were not typical, and he often felt like he didn’t belong with the others. And sometimes, Nick reminded himself, the men did say he didn’t belong with them. But though he might not have the years of training they possessed, he was good at chess, and the other men often included him in their matches. Nick patted the horse before leaving the stall to find where the game had been set up. At least on the chessboard he was considered a comrade.


	2. Chapter 2

_November, 1220 Dock at Aper Tyui/Sweyse, Cymru/Wales_ > > > > > > > > > > > > > >> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > >

After waiting for the other horses, Nick walked Addie slowly down the wooden ramp onto the pier. The mare balked, and he had to constantly reassure her that they would soon be on solid ground. Gentle tugging kept her moving and once through the crowds of bodies, he handed the leads over to one of the local youths tasked with taking all the horses to the stalls near the inn. Nick then wandered off, taking in all the sounds and feelings of the place. It was very different, and yet, he was not disturbed or frightened by that.

By the evening meal he was with everyone at the inn. One of the local men beside him had been talking, but Nick had not paid much attention. His thoughts were turned inwards and to the sensation of being pulled, which was more potent than when he had first felt it. His thoughts were interrupted when he was pushed slightly.

“Hey.”

Nick looked over at the man sitting next to him. Dafydd was in charge of arranging, organizing, and getting supplies for their travel to Carreg.

“You look a little distracted. Homesick?”

Nick slightly nodded his head. “Something like that.”

“It had better be that. Otherwise, it means you’ve been bewitched, lad. Not good since you are here at the Pope’s behest.”

“Magic?”

“The land is full of it, especially where you’re going.”

Nick glanced around the room. “Doesn’t look like anyone else is affected,” he pointed out.

Dafydd narrowed his eyes. “This magic doesn’t work on everyone.”

“Tell me,” Nick said to distract from the current topic, “this town is called Sweyse, yet I also heard it called Aper Tyui almost as often. Which is it?”

“It’s both.”

“Two names? But why?”

“This is two lands, and you can’t ignore or forget that. They exist, one over the other. The native people have their own names for places and they want to take back what is theirs, to keep their land and their ways. You’ll do well to remember that. Because it seems to me,” Dafydd quietly warned as he rose from the bench at the table, “you’re part of the newer one, but you’re hearing the call of the older.”

> > > > > > > > > > >> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > >> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > >

Nick was in the stable tending to Addie while still thinking about what Dafydd had said the other night. He was absentmindedly brushing her coat when he was informed DeLabarre wanted to see him. Nick quickly finished his task and tried to make himself as presentable as possible for their first meeting. He walked into the large room at the inn where they usually ate, but the benches and tables had been rearranged, opening a large area before Sir Raymond DeLabarre. He immediately made reverence. “My lord.”

DeLabarre scrutinized Nicholas before waving his hand to indicate to the other men in the room that he wanted to be alone. He waited until they had left before giving permission for Nicholas to righten himself.

Nick tried to not squirm under DeLabarre’s cold gaze. “You wanted to see me, my lord?”

“Bad practice to speak before being given permission to.”

“I am sorry, my lord,” Nick hastily apologized.

“And it seems you do not learn, either.”

Nick held his tongue and cast his eyes downward.

“Much better.” DeLabarre stroked the side of his beard, then smiled. “You have permission, Nicholas. I understand this is not the usual way, but I hold your family in high regard and am pleased to be able to train you.” Nicholas finally looked back up at him. “I know I am not supposed to mention this, but I was saddened to learn what happened to your brother, Henry. Hopefully, making poor decisions is not a common occurrence within this generation of your House.”

“No, my lord. And I will learn and follow everything you teach.”

DeLabarre leaned back as far as he could in the wooden chair. “You are clean-shaven.”

Nick ignored the implied cut. “As the monks where I had trained are.”

“My Captain tells me you are learning quickly how to use weapons, but you are far behind where you should be.”

“The monks had no weapons and did not fight.”

“You are no longer at the monastery. To insist I be sent a boy more monk than man for this mission with the Celts,” DeLabarre bemoaned. “Still, your main use will be other than as a fighter, which is good since you are not ready to be one.” He rose up from his chair and walked around the table. “Have good cheer,” he jovially said. “You will still continue your training with my Captain, and will be my attaché.” He thumped Nicholas on the back and the younger man staggered slightly. “Not bad being promoted from page to squire in less than two years!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Due to the history of Wales, many places do have two names, as the country has two names. This duality is indicated in the story. The city in the story is currently called Swansea, also Abertawe. But a town seal from 1215 named the city Sweyse, while the first Welsh record of the town's name was from 1150 and was called Aper Tyui.


	3. Chapter 3

_November, 1220 On the path to Castell Carreg Cennen, Cymru/Wales_ > > > > > > > > >> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > >

Sir DeLabarre had wanted to ride ahead of the main train, so had requested him and a few others as company. Nick had hastened to get ready and now they were considerably ahead of the slower-moving carts and wagons that contained their weapons, equipment, the rest of their delegation, and the Archbishop. He rode on DeLabarre’s left along the beaten-down dirt path, his cloak just able to keep at bay the chill from the misty fall weather. Sometimes they talked, otherwise they rode in silence. Nick looked around, feeling the pull more intensely.

DeLabarre glanced over, seeing the young man’s concerned expression. Perhaps Nicholas’ training within the Church would be useful in converting the pagans, if only the young man was more confident about it. “Do not worry so. These Celts will come around to our point of view. You will see, Nicholas.”

Nick looked over. He could not stop thinking of what Dafydd had said, and what he had witnessed among the local people. “The land of Carreg is far afield of the Pope, my lord.” He recalled what he had learned from René, and that this area had no established Church. “Does the Holy See hold sway this far from Rome?”

“This far, and far beyond this realm,” DeLabarre confirmed. “Ours is not to question the Will of God,” he reminded Nicholas, “but to follow it, and it is God’s Will that we bequeath Papal Blessing on the current Lord of Carreg,” he confidently stated. “It is hoped that we can bolster his failing quest to bring God to the pagans that surround him and would see him … spirited from the fold, so to speak.”

“You sound like a general of old, my lord,” Nick replied, “on campaign for your Emperor.” The scowl on DeLabarre’s face was unmistakable. He remembered his lessons at the monastery, that force of arms was not needed to bring God’s message to the people. “Our Empire has a friendlier face, does it not?”

“You ask too many questions that require complicated answers, Nicholas. Bad practice.”

However, Nick couldn’t dislodge the feeling that the local people did not welcome or want them or God. “What if we journey in vain, my lord? What if our influence is unwelcome?”

“These people are pagans, Nicholas,” DeLabarre immediately snapped. “God is the wind in our sails. Failing that, He is the iron in our swords. If the Lord of Carreg is unable to accomplish the task he was charged with, it shall fall upon us to bring these people an offer that must not be refused.” Privately, he was sure Lord Carreg would fail; blessing or not, the man just wasn’t capable of doing what needed to be done. DeLabarre knew what he would do if he held the land, and was already preparing with the Archbishop how to force the hands of the rebellious locals, or get rid of them altogether. His success would show his worth and that he and his House were more deserving of this barony than the current holder.

Nick continued to ride in silence. Soon, he began to feel more than the pull he was used to, but a vibration, a sound. He looked around. This wasn’t an invisible sensation, but something physical and real. He heard music. He stopped his horse and was barely aware that the whole group had stopped as well. “Music, my lord,” Nick said to explain his stopping. “Do you hear it?”

“I hear nothing.”

Nick refused to believe this was something else only he was experiencing. “Such a strange sound,” he said more to himself than to Sir DeLabarre. “With your blessings, my lord, I shall ride on ahead.”

DeLabarre eyed Nicholas, but gave his permission for the young man to go. As Nicholas advanced, he began to wonder if the young man was more like his brother Henry after all.

Nick encouraged Addie from a walk up to a canter, following not the sound of the music, but the pulling sensation, which continued to increase in intensity. A ways ahead he spotted a hill with many large stones standing erect and some that had toppled over. Sitting upon the edge of one fallen stone slab was a woman, her back towards him. He slowed Addie down, then dismounted. He could hear that the music came from her and the harp she was plucking. Careful to not make a distracting noise, Nick took the horses’ reins and walked up the hill. Enthralled, he listened to her playing as he walked up to the stones. As soon as he was within the circle, she immediately stopped and turned her head towards him. Nick smiled; he now knew she was the source of the pulling sensations he had been feeling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To place the location of this story, and the episode "Queen of Harps," I selected the very real area called Carreg (it refers to the rocks in the area - there is a large fault called the Carreg Cennen Disturbance), which happens to have a castle, a river, and a stone circle. The castle is called Carreg Cennen Castle (castle (on the) rock (above the) Cennen) and is currently in ruins, but was built in 1197. The river is the Afon Cennen (Cen: lichen). The stone circle that is near the area was called Y Naw Carreg (the 9 stones); it was destroyed in 1915 and not as large and elaborate as in the episode. With all the landmarks actually in this area, I picked it to be the actual place for this story, just moving all these places much closer to each other (within walking distance), which is not true of their actual locations.


	4. Chapter 4

_November, 1220 Land of Carreg, Cymru/Wales_ > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > >> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > >

Nick found himself once again excluded from the delegation that was meeting within the castle. He was not surprised and, honestly, was pleased with the arrangement. With his training already done for the day, he wandered around outside, eventually arriving down at the river. Its name was Afon Cennen, as Gwynedd had taught him. Walking along the river’s edge, he soon found her. Smiling, he hurried over. She was sitting along the dry ground, playing her harp, and Nick dropped to her side. He waited until Gwynedd was finished before leaning over to kiss her. “That song was beautiful.”

Gwynedd smiled as Nicholas pulled away from her. She rose up off the ground and slung the harp’s strap across her shoulder. She looked down on him, still sitting on the ground. “You say that of all my songs.”

With a lopsided grin, Nick look up at her. “They are all beautiful.”

“Even the ones I sing to my people, to remind them of who they are? The ones your lord DeLabarre dislikes so much?”

Nick got up and leaned over, his lips almost touching hers. “Yes.”

In response, she kissed him, then turned away, walking the path that would lead to Llaw Cawr.

In a few strides, Nick had caught up with Gwynedd and walked by her side. “You always sing that particular song when you are by the river. Why?”

“That song is for the river, to remind its flowing waters of who they are.”

“And the song you play within the stone circle, is it for the rocks?” Nick playfully asked as he reached out to glide his fingers down her arm, “to remind them of who they are?”

Gwynedd felt the fissure of response to Nicholas’ touch. “No,” she whispered, “that song is for something else.” She turned to gaze into his slate-blue eyes. The song was a calling, a changing of the tides, a beckoning for destiny to come and meet her. She had thought it would never be answered and had been startled when Nicholas had magically appeared within the circle. He was from so far away, had to cross so much water, it was no wonder it had taken so long for the song to be answered.

“What?”

“Perhaps, Nicholas, it is about me.”

Nick grinned, and dropped his hand to envelop hers. “Then it is my favorite song.” He stopped Gwynedd and stroked her smooth cheek with his free hand. “I love you.”

She leaned into his warm chest. “And what happens when you have to go? When your God recalls you to your native land across the ocean?”

He stroked the back of her head, letting her hair slip between his fingers. “We will be together. I won’t leave you,” Nick vowed.

Gwynedd pulled back from him but only to be able to meet his lips with her own. It still surprised her that she wanted one so different from her, and him her. He was a man of the Church; such men she and her people were fighting against, but she did not want to fight him. She moaned in sadness when Nicholas pulled away from her lips. However, that feeling was soon brushed aside as he resumed his kisses, leaving a trail of them across her cheek and down her neck. Gwynedd stepped back from him, let go, and walked towards Llaw Cawr.

Nick followed her, looking up at the stones when they finally got close to them. “’Tis an odd arrangement. What would be the purpose of doing such a random thing?”

“These have been here from before memory. The people who put them here invested them with magic, ” Gwynedd explained. She stopped near one of the upright stones and turned to face him. She knew he still did not believe in magic, in the forces she felt all around, how it was amplified within Llaw Cawr. She knew he had been raised in the Church, had known no other life until recently. “Are you so sure there is nothing in this world unknown to your beloved Church?” She grasped his hand and led him deeper into the circle. “You cannot tell me you do not feel the magic.” She stopped at the center stone, which lay on its side in the grass.

Smiling, Nick stroked the back of her hand with his free one. “I do feel the magic.” He looked around at the structure, which was only rock. “But it’s not coming from these stones.” The call that had first led him to this circle he knew did not come from them, but from Gwynedd. He touched her face, caressing the flushed surface gently, then leaned in to kiss her once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please excuse my poor translation into Welsh, but Llaw Cawr means "Giant's Hand," or "Hand of the Giant." Giant's Hand is the name of the stone circle in Carreg given by Johanna in the episode.


	5. Chapter 5

_November, 1220 Locked keep in Castell Carreg Cennen, Cymru/Wales_ > > > > > > > >> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > >

“I’ve managed to secure your freedom, Nicholas,” DeLabarre answered, “on condition that you pay your debt and your penance by fighting in the Holy Land.”

Nick shook his head; for anyone to think he had killed Gwynedd was hurtful – he loved her. And going away wouldn’t bring the real killer out to answer for what he had done. “I’m not a murderer. I must have a chance for a fair trial.”

“Are you blind, man?” DeLabarre immediately retorted. “You are a foreigner here. The harper woman was their native daughter. Stay to protest and they’ll have your head.” DeLabarre needed Nicholas to accept this and not pursue the circumstances of the events of her death. “The Archbishop,” he began as he walked around the young man, “and I have exercised all our resources to secure this reprieve, Nicholas. I advise you,” DeLabarre intoned, “to accept it, and our Blessing, and take your sword to Jerusalem.”

Nick turned around to face DeLabarre. A part of him understood that the local people would rather believe he had killed Gwynedd rather than one of their own. He also knew he could not go back to his family with this accusation upon him; the disgrace would result in the same expulsion as had happened to Henry. Heart pounding in fear of sharing the same fate as his brother, the words of his mentor René rose up. To follow the Cross, and avoid such a dark future, meant going to the Holy Land. “My lord,” Nick uttered in resignation, then made his escape from the keep.

> > > > > > > > > > >> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > >> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > >

“Nicholas,” DeLabarre said while walking around the young man, “I will continue to work on your behalf here, to find the true murderer and have him answer for this crime. In the meantime, we must continue with this farce.”

“I had to sign the document saying that I did the killing. And the terms of my punishment. I had to Confess to Gwynedd’s murder.”

“Focus on the good your actions are having right now. We are preventing a rebellion and more Christian deaths by going along with this deal.” DeLabarre put his hand on Nicholas’ shoulder. “I understand how you feel about this deception, but we did what we could to preserve your life. They would have killed you at the first opportunity.”

Nick scowled. “But to be formally accused, and sin placed upon me by the Archbishop. Perhaps if I talk with him, I can convince him I am innocent. There is no sin, no penance I must do. He could remove that part.”

DeLabarre hesitated before answering. “You spent much time with the woman, listening to her, being influenced by her, responding to her siren song. That is enough to have convinced the Archbishop that you have not been true and faithful to the Church and to God. That is the nature of the sin you bear.” Nicholas turned and walked away from him. “I argued for your life, Nicholas, and the Archbishop only agreed with me so that you can have the opportunity for redemption. And,” DeLabarre continued softly, “you cannot truthfully say your involvement with Gwynedd had nothing to do with her death. You saw how angry that mob of Celts were with you; how more so if they knew what you really did with her?” Nicholas turned around to face him. “I should think one of them did learn, and that is why she was killed. So keep that in mind, Nicholas: you are not as innocent in this matter as you might believe.”

Nick was about to say something when the door to his small chamber was opened and a local peasant woman entered. He warily watched her approach.

“You will be a Crusader, and as such, you need to be identified with a Cross on your clothing. This woman has been tasked to sew one upon your shirt.” DeLabarre indicated for her to proceed.

Nick saw her pull out a small piece of cloth with the image stitched upon it, along with a sewing needle and thread. He turned his face away from her as she set to work, positioning the patch over his heart. The first prick on his chest he assumed was due to an accident, but by the fourth or fifth pricking, he knew this was deliberate. He turned his head to look at her, saw her moving her lips but couldn’t make out the words, and then another jab into his skin. When she glanced up at him, the hatred in her eyes was unbearable and he turned away from it. He was now convinced she was muttering a curse, and he found he couldn’t deny her right to do so. Perhaps DeLabarre had been correct and, though he hadn’t killed Gwynedd himself, she would still be alive if he had just stayed away from her as he was supposed to. Therefore, he was responsible for her death, as much as the killer, and that sin was his to have. When the woman was finished sewing, she quickly scuttled out of the room and Nick looked down at his shirt. There were drops of fresh blood in the cloth around the patch, and Nick realized this would not be the last blood he would spill as a servant under the Cross.

“Do not fret, Nicholas. The Pope has granted an indulgence for any who battle in the Holy War. As such, before you leave, I will confer knighthood upon you so that you may be permitted to fight and receive this remission and release of the guilt from the sins you harbor. I will also help sponsor you.” He turned to the wall and continued to speak. “So you see, all will be forgiven, including what you did with the woman, and you will still be alive and not barred from entering Heaven.” He paused, waiting for any words from Nicholas. When none came, he continued. “When you go back to visit your family before departing, do not mention any of this. You do not want them to disavow you, like your brother.”

“And if they ask my reason for leaving your training and going to fight? Or they might not even have to ask me; the priest accompanying me to verify my penance can speak of it.”

“He has been ordered to say nothing. And that will be the message given to each you will come across – they will not tell anyone the specifics of why you are fighting. As for your answer,” DeLabarre said as he quickly glanced back at Nicholas, “I would only say that your exposure to the pagans of this land has convinced you of the need to fight for your faith, and you received a vision to use your skills to reclaim Jerusalem for God.”

> > > > > > > > > > >> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > >> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > >

After searching through the castle for some time, DeLabarre found the Archbishop near a window. He came up and looked down through the opening.

“Nicholas has just left to return to the ship.”

“The beginning of his travels to Jerusalem.”

“He is not ready to fight.”

“Who cares? De Brabant will receive his indulgence, and his sins and penance for them will be forgiven. This is the best outcome for him, considering his involvement with the woman and what occurred here.”

“Yes,” the Archbishop glanced over at Raymond. “And if he should also die there?”

DeLabarre shrugged. “That would be the best outcome for us, considering what occurred here.” 

The Archbishop grunted. “A brilliant idea to use him to fulfill the mandate the Lord of Carreg was supposed to achieve.”

DeLabarre nodded in agreement. “With her death, the pagans can see their gods have abandoned them since they did not protect her. Without the harp and her songs, the people will forget who they are. They will then be easy to convert.”

“And their thoughts about Nicholas?”

“A guilty man, and they do not doubt he killed her, is being punished for his crime. The Celts will see that no matter who a person is, God’s justice will be done. Our religion does not play favorites; all are equal before Him.”

The Archbishop turned and began walking down the corridor. He knew Raymond would follow. “So what does Lord Carreg have to say about a murder occurring on his land?”

“I will tell them it was Lord Carreg that ordered de Brabant to gain her trust and then kill her because she had defied the Lord so many times. They will not mind if he is removed, and once gone, it is not his land and need not worry what occurs on it.”

“You have achieved what the first Lord Carreg had failed to do.” The Archbishop paused before his chambers. “As we agreed, I will submit for the title to be bestowed upon you and your House; you will be acknowledged as the second Lord of Carreg.”

DeLabarre bowed. “Thank you, Archbishop.”

The Archbishop acknowledged the reverence. “And what of your sin, Lord Carreg? You killed her; the guilt and punishment should be yours.”

“As you reminded me, sponsoring a Crusader would also entitle me to an indulgence, and, of course, you have already forgiven me for my actions. Although,” DeLabarre thoughtfully said as he shrugged with indifference, “I would say killing a pagan is not really a sin anyway.”

“And of Nicholas?”

“That is on him. I told him to stay away from the woman. De Brabant chose his fate by following her.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Indulgences were given to those who would fight in the Crusades, and to those who financially contributed to the Crusades, like sponsoring a knight. (Forgive me, this is not my religion) Sin would keep you from Heaven, so to enter, the sin needed to be removed. A confession would do this (and all Crusaders confessed before embarking), but sins came with punishments and guilt. This had to be paid either in this life or the afterlife before one could enter Heaven. Punishments/penance would vary based on what the sin was, but there was a risk the penance would not be completed before death. Indulgence gave another way to quickly do penance with the guarantee that if a particular activity was done/money paid, it was guaranteed to completely remove all the punishment and guilt, giving one a clean soul (so to speak) and thus could immediately enter Heaven upon death.


End file.
